


Friendship is Magic

by Dracothelizard



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Top Gear (UK) RPF
Genre: Crossover, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-19
Updated: 2012-11-19
Packaged: 2017-11-19 01:55:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/567752
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dracothelizard/pseuds/Dracothelizard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur Weasley meets a nice young man named James May at a secondhand carfair in the early nineties. They quickly become good friends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Friendship is Magic

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this in 2007, then left it for a few years, and only recently finished it. So if the ending feels disjointed, that's probably why :)  
> (And obviously standard disclaimer of me having made everything up applies.)

Arthur eyed the turquoise Ford Anglia hungrily. Molly had forbidden him, on pain of throwing out his collection of batteries, to come home with a car, or anything even remotely engine-like. But surely she had to understand that it was his job to understand Muggles as well as possible, and that this involved understanding their modes of transport? How else was he supposed to deal with the magical misuse of cars? He owed it to his profession to buy the cheap second-hand car.   
  
"I wouldn't buy that if I were you."  
  
Arthur looked up, and saw a man next to him. He looked to be in his early thirties or late twenties, and was shabbily dressed with short, dark hair and blue eyes. "And why not?" Arthur asked.   
  
"Well, for starters, it's a hideous shade of turquoise. It's also a useless heap of rust. Unless you want it for parts, I suppose," the man said. "Although Lord knows why you'd want its parts."  
  
Arthur smiled. The man was right, by Muggle standards the Anglia was indeed a useless heap of rust, but Arthur had a few tricks up his sleeve. "Oh, I don't know, a bit of hard work and I'm sure it'll work again."  
  
The man stared at him as if he were insane. "A bit of hard work? Look at it, the engine's mostly rusted, the less said about that strange gloop covering the battery the better, and it looks like the antifreeze is frozen."  
  
"It's still an amazing piece of work," Arthur said, looking at the intricate parts of the engine. It always surprised him at how ingenious Muggles could be when they really wanted to. They had managed to get a man on the moon! Obviously it had been an useless expedition, but the fact that they had managed it was proof of their remarkable abilities. "It's just pieces of metal and yet it can move this entire car!"   
  
"Well, the principles of the internal combustion engine are a bit more complicated than that,” the man said. "But let's not get into that. How do you plan on fixing this car?"  
  
Arthur was slightly disappointed the man didn't want to discuss the internal combustion engine, as it sounded fascinating, and he had never fully understood how a car engine worked, which was why he wanted to buy one. "Oh, bit of this, bit of that," he replied vaguely.   
  
The man laughed. "You have no idea how much work it is, do you?"   
  
"I'm sure I'm about to find out, and that I can manage," Arthur said calmly. "Trust me, I'll fix it up so nicely, you'd never know it had been in this state."   
  
"Hmm. Tell you what, I'll bet you fifty quid you can't get it to pass an MOT within the year," the man offered.   
  
Arthur knew an MOT was some sort of test a car had to pass in order to be allowed to drive on public roads, and thought that he most certainly could get the Anglia to do that. "All right," he said, and shook the other man's hand. "What's your name?"  
  
"James May. What's yours?"  
  
***  
  
It was April the following year that James arrived at the address Arthur had given him over the telephone. It had been fairly difficult to find Ottery St. Catchpole, but the people in the village had been most helpful in pointing out where he could find the Weasley home. There was a young girl in the front garden, looking very displeased as she was pulling out the weeds. She had red hair, just like Arthur, and James assumed she was his daughter. "Excuse me," he asked, after getting out of his car. "Is this the home of Arthur Weasley?"  
  
The girl looked up. "Yes, he's my dad. Why?" she asked.   
  
"Well, he asked me to come by his house today, saying he wanted me to show his Ford Anglia," James explained. "I'm James May."  
  
"He's in the shed," the girl replied. "I'll show you. Mum said he might as well move in there," she added as they walked past the house and into the back garden, where there was a large wooden shed. James noted it looked about as shoddily put together as the house, and hoped it wouldn't collapse while he was in there.   
  
Arthur came out of the shed just when they arrived, and grinned. "Ah, James! You managed to find the Burrow?"  
  
"Eventually, yes," James replied, shaking Arthur's hand.   
  
"No, I know we're not easy to find, but we prefer it out here. Plenty of room for the kids to play, right, Ginny?" He turned to the girl.  
  
"Plenty of room for stupid weeds to grow," she muttered, and went back to the front garden with a distinct air of sulkiness.  
  
Arthur smiled. "Children. Don't mind her, she's just annoyed that all her brothers have gone off to school and she has to wait until September." He sighed. "I love them all dearly, but sometimes I'm very glad Hogwarts only has them come back during the summer holidays, and at Christmas and Easter. They're such a handful."   
  
James remained quiet, but wondered how a man who lived in such an old and rickety-looking house and had to buy a crap second-hand car was able to afford sending his children to a boarding school. "Where's the car?" he asked, changing the subject from children into one he knew a little more about.   
  
"Of course, the Anglia! Just wait until you see it, you won't believe your eyes," Arthur said proudly as they walked to the garage. "I hope you've brought the fifty pounds you're going to owe me."  
  
"I'll keep that until I see with my own eyes that it's the same car as you bought, and until I've driven in it," James replied, feeling fairly confident he would get to keep his money.   
  
Arthur just continued to look pleased as he opened the shed doors, and James could see the car stand there. He walked inside, collapsing sheds forgotten, and eyes only on the gleaming car. "Well, it certainly looks a lot better," James said, walking around it. "You've got the rust off the outside, I'll give you that."  
  
"And off the inside," Arthur replied. "I almost had to take all of it apart, but it's been worth it."   
  
James lifted the bonnet, and was amazed at the cleanliness there. "All right, you've managed to get the gloop and the rust off, that doesn't mean anything, that just means you're an excellent cleaner," he said, his confidence shattering a bit. What if this man had managed to do the impossible? What if this man was secretly a very talented mechanic? He never had asked what Arthur did for a living. "Are you in the cleaning business, then?" he asked, closing the bonnet.  
  
"Oh, no, I work for the government," Arthur replied. "It's not terribly important in the big scheme of things, but I love my job."   
  
James nodded. "D'you mind if we go for a test-drive?" he asked.   
  
"Of course not," Arthur replied. "I suppose you'll want to drive it?" He handed James the keys, and opened the passenger door.   
  
James settled into the driver's seat and put on the safety belt. There were a lot more buttons in here than in other cars, but he had never driven a Ford Anglia before, so perhaps these buttons were normal. "Let's see if it can drive to the village and back," James said, starting the car.   
  
Arthur nodded. "Fair enough. We can pick up some groceries for Molly."   
***  
When they were back at the Burrow, James had to admit that while the ride wasn't entirely smooth, the Ford Anglia did drive without too much trouble. He wouldn't have the car himself, but he could see why Arthur was quite pleased with it. "All right, so you managed to get it in working order," James said, handing him the money. "What's your secret?"   
  
Arthur grinned. "Magic."  
  
James laughed. "Oh, of course, and little gnomes helped you as well. All right, keep your secrets, but if I ever happen to own a piece of rusty junk, I'll know where to find you."  
  
"I'd like that," Arthur replied. "I'd love to find out how different cars work, but I doubt Molly would appreciate me bringing back more second-hand cars."   
  
"Well, it's all the same principle, but I'll give you that the differences between them can be interesting," James said, wondering just how far Arthur's obsession with engines and cars went. He seemed more interested in how they worked than in actually driving one, as James had offered to let him drive back, but Arthur had declined. "Actually, how do you feel about motorbikes?" he asked, suddenly thinking back to the old Yamaha in his own garage. It could do with some of Arthur's 'magic'.  
  
Arthur grinned. "I think motorbikes are wonderful."   
***  
Arthur waved James off, feeling quite pleased he had been asked to look at one of James' old and rusty motorbikes. He walked into the kitchen examining the fifty-pound note. Amazing how those Muggles had decided to use paper instead of coins.   
  
"So, how did it go?" Molly asked, already preparing dinner.   
  
"He decided I won my bet," Arthur replied. "And I think I may have made a Muggle friend."  
  
Molly sighed. "Arthur, making friends with Muggles is difficult. Sooner or later they're going to ask how you managed this or that. You said yourself that that car would be beyond Muggle repairs."  
  
"He doesn't suspect a thing," Arthur said defensively. "He assumed I did it by hard work. And he's asked me to look at a motorbike of his."   
  
"Oh, right, and what's he going to think when you use magic on it rather than hard work, hmm?" Molly asked. "It's downright dangerous, and you know very well you're not allowed to use magic in front of Muggles."  
  
"That's why I'll do it when he's not around," Arthur said, grinning. "He's going to have to take a toilet break sooner or later."  
  
Molly didn't look very pleased. "I just wish you could make some more wizarding friends. I know Xenophilius Lovegood is a bit odd, but you've always enjoyed mucking about with Muggle objects with him. And when's the last time we went to visit the Diggories?"   
  
"I think that I should be friends with Muggles, to be an example for the rest of the wizarding community," Arthur argued. "It's my job to be involved with them, so I should get to know them. If only more wizarding families made friends with Muggles, there'd be a lot less work for me at the department, I know that."   
  
"I know, Arthur, I know, but I'd still feel a lot better if you looked up a few memory-modifying charms before you visit him. Just in case."   
  
***  
  
It wasn't until October that Arthur and James met up again, and as they were enjoying a tea-break from taking care of the old Yamaha, James asked him about the Ford Anglia. "Is it still working?" he asked.  
  
Arthur's face fell. "You won't believe it, but my youngest son and one of his school friends missed the train to their school, and decided to take the car instead."  
  
"And how old is he?" James asked, fearing the worst.  
  
"He's only twelve!" Arthur exclaimed. "And he can barely ride a bicycle!"  
  
"How far did he get?" James asked, hoping that the two boys hadn't got too hurt during their little joyride.   
  
"Surprisingly far, to be honest," Arthur admitted. "But he managed to crash the car into a bloody tree."   
  
"But they were all right, I hope? And the car?"  
  
Arthur sighed. "Oh, yes, Ron and Harry were fine. A few bruises, they were very lucky. As for the car, well, you could say that the, er, owner of the tree kept it. As compensation for crashing into the tree. It was a, er, special tree, you could say. I've never been so embarrassed in my life."  
  
James wondered who on Earth would demand a Ford Anglia that had crashed into their own tree as compensation. "You looking for a new car, then?" he asked.   
  
"No, Molly said they were more trouble than they're worth, and I'm almost inclined to agree with her. Besides, there's plenty of other ways to get around," Arthur said, still looking slightly crestfallen. "It's too bad I don't have the time to try and get it back, I liked it."   
  
"I think you should wait for your wife to cool down a bit before you try to get it back. Preferably until her birthday's been and you've given her a fantastic gift," James suggested.   
  
Arthur perked up at that idea. "It's worth a shot," he agreed.   
  
They finished their tea, and when James returned from bringing the cups into the house, the Yamaha's engine was a lot cleaner than it had been a few minutes ago. "You work fast," James said.  
  
Arthur just shrugged. "Yes, well, so, but how does a bike stop from falling over when it drives?"  
  
James was in the middle of an explanation of the laws of motion when he realised that Arthur had successfully changed the subject when it came to an explanation of his cleaning secret. Still, whatever got the job done.  
  
***  
  
Arthur and James became good friends over the next few years, with Arthur getting overly excited at just about everything with an engine, including a useless blender, while James tried to get Arthur to spill his secret on how he was able to make even the most rusty engine part work again. Arthur, in his turn, quizzed James on just about every modern appliance in his house. James thought it was odd that a man who was so fascinated by modern technology lived in a house that was so old-fashioned, but he had never heard Arthur or his wife complain about it, so he supposed that it worked for them and their legion of children, whom he heard plenty about, but never met. Molly had assured him that this was probably for the best.   
  
From about July 1995, though, their contact decreased, and James wondered why he didn’t hear from Arthur for months on end, although he did get a card at Christmas saying that Arthur was sorry about it, but that he had been terribly busy at work, and Arthur wished him a happy Q-mas. James frowned at that, but put it with his other cards anyway.   
  
It wasn’t until the autumn of 1997 that James received a letter from Arthur, informing him he had got his hands on a wrecked motorbike, and would James like to come round to see if it was salvageable?   
  
James didn’t need much time to decide, and while James thought Arthur had aged a lot in the two years they hadn’t seen each other, he found that Arthur hadn’t changed much, and their friendship was quickly resumed.  
  
***  
  
James hadn’t told Arthur about his job on Top Gear, mostly because Arthur didn’t have a television and was only interested in acquiring one to take it apart to see how it worked, and because he didn’t know how to throw ‘by the way, I have a job presenting a car show on the BBC’ into a conversation without sounding like he was bragging about it. He did tell Arthur about Jeremy and Richard, and the strange things they did with cars. Arthur didn’t seem fazed by their repeated attempts to destroy a Toyota Hilux and other such things, and James thought that at some point, his friends should probably meet each other.  
  
Although it was probably best for Arthur to meet Richard first, on his own. Jeremy might just scare him off. James suggested it while they cleaned the engine of the motorbike that had rekindled their friendship. “Richard likes motorbikes and working on them,” he said. “Especially the slightly odd ones like this one.”   
  
Arthur hmm’ed. “And he likes cars as well?”   
  
“Definitely.”   
  
Arthur wiped his hands on a rag. “Well, I suppose it couldn’t hurt. I’ll have to talk to Molly first, obviously.”   
  
***  
  
“No, Arthur, I’m not having another Muggle around, and that’s the end of it,” Molly said firmly, while she made sure that the potatoes were peeling themselves properly. “We’re lucky enough that James hasn’t noticed anything so far.”   
  
“But he’s a friend of James,” Arthur tried. “I’m sure this Richard Hammond is a very nice, sensible young man. Besides, you like James well enough.”   
  
Molly sighed. “That’s not the point, Arthur. It’s far too risky, having Muggles around the house. Why can’t you meet him over at James’ house?”   
  
“He wants to show his friend the flying motorbike we’ve been working on in the shed,” Arthur explained, omitting the fact that they got it work again. Well, Arthur had fixed the flying spells without James’ help, obviously, but James had been a great help with the technical bits.  
  
“The formerly flying motorbike, right, Arthur?” Molly asked, fixing him with a stern glare. “Because we’ve had this discussion about flying Muggle vehicles before, and I told you, not again after the Ford Anglia!”   
  
“I wouldn’t dream of it, Mollywobbles,” Arthur said, smiling. “You know I’m only interested in how the engine works, and it only works as a normal Muggle motorbike would. And there’s a lot less risk of them finding out we’re wizards now that the children have all left home.”   
  
Molly flicked her wand at the potatoes, making sure the potato peels weren’t too thick. “Well, I suppose if you’re sure there aren’t magical projects in the shed…”   
  
“You won’t regret it,” Arthur grinned. “You won’t even notice the two of them were here.”   
  
***  
  
“And what bike have you and your friend been working on, then?” Richard asked, as James drove them through the countryside.   
  
James frowned slightly, realising that Arthur had never actually told him what brand the bike was. And there was no telling from the parts either, as most of the bike was now made up out of spare parts. Odd, that. He’d have to ask Arthur about it this afternoon. “You’ll see soon enough,” he just said. “And don’t forget to be nice to his wife. She’s not a big fan of Arthur’s projects.”   
  
Richard snorted. “James, if she’s a housewife like you say she is, she’ll take to me instantly. But all right, I’ll be nice and compliment her on something.”   
  
***  
  
Richard certainly did his best to make a good impression on Mrs. Weasley, with a bright smile and a compliment to their wonderful garden. They made small talk for a few minutes, before she gave her silent approval and went back into the house. “So,” Richard said, turning to Arthur and James, “where’s this amazing bike of yours?”   
  
***  
  
“It’s very big,” was the first thing Richard said. “Is it an American one?”   
  
“Probably,” Arthur said, and shrugged. “Does it matter?”   
  
Richard stared at him. “You mean you don’t know? How can you know what country your bike’s from?”   
  
Arthur started brushing dust off the seat with an old rag. “Yes, well, the, er, man I got it from didn’t really say.”   
  
Richard glanced at James, who frowned. “Arthur, you did get this bike legally, right?”   
  
Arthur looked up, insulted. “Of course, James! It’s just that the man who left the bike here was heavily wounded, and had better things to discuss than where his bike came from!” He started cleaning the spotless handlebars now.   
  
“We’re sorry, Arthur,” James said. “It’s just that we’re curious where this bike is from.”   
  
“Well, I’m more curious about the ride,” Richard added. “James has been bragging about how you two fixed this thing.”   
  
Arthur smiled. “Really?” He looked at the bike. “Well, I suppose if we take it to the orchard it’ll be all right. I don’t want to have it on the road just yet.”   
  
Richard nodded. “Yes, it might fall apart, like that old Honda you tried to mend, James.”   
  
“That was an easily fixed problem, Hammond, and it would never have happened if you hadn’t rushed me,” James insisted.   
  
Arthur was already out of the shed, pushing the bike carefully. “Come on, you two, do you want to test this bike or not?”   
  
***  
  
Richard had sat on the seat carefully, and when that hadn’t caused the bike to fall apart, he straddled it properly. “All right, where’s the key?”   
  
Arthur handed it to him. “Now, Richard, please be careful, and don’t touch any of the buttons, just the accelerator and the brakes, that’ll be fine for the first test drive.”   
  
James just hoped those buttons wouldn’t do anything, as he already knew Richard was going to push them anyway. “And don’t drive it too quickly,” he added.  
  
Richard rolled his eyes, and put on the too large helmet Arthur had found in his shed. “Yes, yes,” he said impatiently, revving the engine already. “It is a motorbike, James; they’re meant to go quickly.” He drove off through the bumpy field, and James felt quite pleased that it didn’t stall or malfunction in another way.   
  
“It works!” Arthur exclaimed, grinning. “That’s amazing!”   
  
Richard drove around in a large circle, looking quite pleased as well. “What’s this white button do, Arthur?” he shouted.   
  
“Don’t push it!” Arthur shouted back, looking worried, but it was already too late.   
  
James stared, and then rubbed his eyes. “That can’t be,” he murmured. The bike was now floating a few inches from the ground, but that was impossible.   
  
Richard hadn’t noticed anything strange going on, and gave it some more speed. This made the bike move forward and upward, and now it was about three feet high, and still climbing.   
  
“Arthur, what’s going on?” James asked, hoping that Arthur was also seeing the motorbike, so he could be sure that he wasn’t going insane.   
  
By now, Richard had noticed what was going on as well. “I’m flying!” he shouted excitedly. “Look!”   
  
James almost didn’t dare to watch Richard as he flew higher, partly because he was worried about his friend’s safety, but mostly because he was worried about his own sanity. “Richard, get back on the ground!”   
  
“No way, this is brilliant, you should try it!”   
  
“Richard!” Arthur shouted. “Please use the brakes and try to steer it towards the ground! I think that was quite long enough for a first time!” He looked rather worried, and James thought he had every cause to be. Whatever was going on with this motorbike, Arthur had to know more about it, and James hoped he had a bloody good explanation.   
  
“Oh, fine,” Richard replied, and managed to get the bike hovering a few inches over the ground. “Now what?”   
  
“Just push the white button again,” Arthur told him. “And turn off the bike.”   
  
Richard did just that, and got off. He still had a grin on his face. “That was brilliant. I’ll buy that off you, I’ll never have to be in a traffic jam ever again!”   
  
“Arthur, why did the bike just fly?” James asked. “How did it do that?”   
  
Arthur pulled out a wooden stick from his trouser pocket. “You know, I was hoping it would never come to this,” he said, sounding rather morose.   
  
“Never come to what?” Richard asked, sounding slightly confused. “And what’s that stick for?”   
  
“I really am sorry,” Arthur said, and pointed it at Richard. “Obliviate.”   
  
James took a step back when he saw Richard’s gaze turn glassy. “Arthur, what did you do to him?” he asked, beginning to get scared. “Arthur?”   
  
“I’m sorry I can’t tell you the truth, James, I really am,” Arthur told him, and then pointed the stick at him as well. “Obliviate.”   
  
***  
  
“See, Hammond, I told you Arthur could fix up that old bike,” James told Richard, smiling at Arthur, who was still looking a little worried.   
  
“It was a pretty smooth ride,” Richard agreed. “Y'know, it almost felt like I was flying.”  
  
They laughed at that, and Arthur chuckled along nervously. “Yes, almost!”  
  
“I'd love to take a closer look at the suspension.” James smiled at Arthur, but Arthur shook his head.  
  
“No, no, it's nearly dinner time and it's getting late, so it's probably best if you got going too,” he replied. “Maybe some other time.”  
  
Richard checked his watch, and nodded. “Arthur, you should come down to the studio some time, it'll be fun.”  
  
Arthur frowned. “Studio?”   
  
“Yeah, for Top Gear. We've got a Lambo in next week.” Richard grinned. “It's a thing of beauty.”  
  
“Erm,” James said, starting to get uncomfortable, just as Arthur asked what Top Gear was.  
  
***  
  
Molly, understandably, had her doubts about her husband going to a television studio. “Arthur,” she said. “There's a lot of technology there.”  
  
“I know!” Arthur was beside himself. There would be cameras and sound equipment and cables and plugs and Merlin knew what else.  
  
“You know how you are around technology,” she continued. “You'll ask questions and people will find you suspicious. Remember that time when we went to the Transport Museum?”   
  
Arthur sighed, remembering that day well. “I just wanted to know how the blender buses worked.”   
  
“Yes,” Molly replied, “and then those guards had to ask us to leave because you tried to start one of them. You nearly used magic.”   
  
It hadn't been the best day of his life, no. “This'll be different,” Arthur insisted. “I'll be with James and Richard. They're friends. I'll just... sit in a corner and observe!”   
  
Molly shook her head, clearly sceptical at her husband's ability to do just that.  
  
***  
  
James had handed Arthur a styrofoam cup with tea. “Can you wait here for a bit?” James asked. “I have to get Jeremy, and trust me, you'll need a cuppa in order to meet him.”  
  
Arthur nodded. The styrofoam cup was pretty interesting, and he was also very curious about this Jeremy Clarkson. From the way Richard and James had talked about him, he seemed like a complete madman. A madman who was known by millions across the world for talking about cars and occasionally destroying them. Arthur was never going to understand Muggles.   
  
He blew on his tea as James walked off, and he looked around the studio. The lights all over the ceiling were fascinating, there were so many of them. And the cords! There were so many extension cords and plugs. He wondered if Jamed was willing to explain how they all worked.  
  
“I see James has welcomed you by giving you our terrible tea.”  
  
Arthur looked up, and a tall man with greying, curly hair was marching over to him, followed by James. “You must be Mr. Clarkson,” Arthur said, holding out his hand politely. “I'm Arthur Weasley.”   
  
“Yes, I'm Jeremy.” He gave Arthur a firm handshake, then turned to James. “I heard you were one of James' friends he fixes cars with. Personally, I prefer driving them.”   
  
“But the way they work is so fascinating!” Arthur exclaimed, beaming. “It's so intricate and the way everything fits together and-”  
  
“Oh God, it's like having two of you,” Jeremy said loudly, interrupting Arthur. “I swear, if you start trying to explain true airspeed to me as well, I'm sending the Stig after you.”   
  
Arthur turned to James. “What's true airspeed?”  
  
“Oh, it's to do with aeroplanes,” James said, smiling happily. “Remember when I was working on my license?”  
  
Arthur had loved talking to James about aeroplanes and how they stayed up. “Of course!”   
  
“Right,” Jeremy said, holding up his hands. “If anyone needs me, Hamster and I are planning your wedding.”   
  
“But I'm already married,” Arthur said, slightly confused as Jeremy walked off.  
  
“He's being an idiot,” James said, shrugging.“So, are you interested in true airspeed? It's a bit of a technical explanation, I'm afraid.”  
  
“James, we've known each other for over fifteen years,” Arthur told him, and sipped from his tea. “When have I ever not been interested in a technical explanation?”   
  
***  
  
James took him for a tour around the studio and the airfield, pointing out interesting facts and answering Arthur's questions about the technical side of things. “I thought Jeremy was going to get your other friend?” he asked. “That Stig person?”  
  
“Oh, he's probably already forgotten about that now,” James replied, shaking his head.   
  
Arthur looked around the airfield, and noticed a figure walking over to a fast-looking car. “Is that Stig?” he asked. He'd been informed the Stig wore only a white racing overall and a helmet, but something about the way he walked was familiar to Arthur. “Can we say hello?”   
  
James shrugged, and headed into the direction of the car. “Why not? Stig's probably just getting familiar with the car before doing a test lap.” He glanced at Arthur as they walked across the field. “You're just after a lap with him, aren't you?”  
  
“Not really,” Arthur replied. There had been something familiar about the Stig, and he knocked on the car window when they arrived.  
  
The Stig opened the cardoor, and tilted his head when he looked at Arthur.   
  
“Stig, this is a friend of mine,” James said. “His name is...”  
  
“Arthur Weasley!” The voice from underneath the helmet sounded enthusiastic. “I've not seen you since Hogwarts!”   
  
Arthur smiled at the visor, ignoring James' spluttering next to him. “Orion McKinnon! It is you, I thought I recognised you.” He hadn't seen Orion in years, but they'd been great friends and classmates. They'd always sat together in Muggle Studies and had a shared interest in cars. Unlike Arthur, though, Orion had always been more interested in driving them.   
  
“He's wearing a helmet and – and -” James gestured at the Stig wildly. “How did you recognise him?”   
  
“We have our ways, James,” the Stig explained. He threw an arm around Arthur. “I didn't know the two of you were friends. It's a small world, eh?”   
  
James still looked like the ground had vanished underneath him. “You said Hogwarts, that's that school, isn't it?” he said. His eyes grew wide. “You're a wizard too!”   
  
Arthur gulped, and looked at his old friend. “Orion?” What was going on here? How did James know about wizards and witches?  
  
The Stig just shrugged. “It's okay, Arthur. A select few people working on the show have special dispensation from the Ministry. They're allowed to know I'm a wizard, and I've promised not to use any magic on the cars.”   
  
James was still looking at Arthur suspiciously. “Hang on, that Ford Anglia you fixed... you used magic on that, didn't you?”  
  
That was the first thing on James' mind right now? “Well, yes,” Arthur admitted.  
  
“You owe me fifty quid! You said you'd done it by hand.” James was looking triumphant at this.  
  
Arthur was about to object, but he realised that, if he was honest, he had tricked James a bit. “Sorry.”   
  
“You can pay me back some other time,” James replied, smiling at them. “If you'll excuse me, I have to go tell Hammond you're a wizard too. You two probably have a lot to talk about.”   
  
“What about Jeremy?” Arthur asked. “I thought he was your friend too.”  
  
“Yes, which is exactly why I'm not telling him.” James' smile had turned a little evil. “Let Clarkson find out for himself.”   
  
As James walked off, Arthur turned to his friend. “You've been around Muggles longer than I have...”  
  
The Stig laughed. “No, Arthur, I don't understand them any better than you do.”   
  
“And we never will, will we?” Arthur replied, smiling as well. It was something he had long come to expect. Didn't mean he wouldn't keep trying for the rest of his life.


End file.
